Atticus forced a smile; he shifted his hold on Drago's reins when the horse attempted to grab at the grass again. Drago snorted his displeasure into Atticus's shoulder and stomped at the ground. "I'm just enjoying nature."
"Since when?"
Since Genny appeared in it, but he didn't say that out loud. "Since it gets me out of that manor," he replied with a laugh.
Merle smirked as he folded his arms over his chest. "You've met a woman or you've found a woman. Tell me, who is she?"
Atticus shook his head. "Merle…"
"It's the girl from that day, the blond," he announced with a laugh. "I thought you felt she was a little too young but it all makes sense now! All your trips into the woods, the secretiveness, the fact that you've been turning the serving women away, it's all crystal clear! If I had someone that beautiful in my bed, I'd be doing the same. But then I'd never leave my bed!"
"It's not the blond," Atticus told him.
"Then who and where did you meet her?"
Atticus looked at Drago but even the horse was staring at him as if he was waiting for an answer too. If Genny had been any other woman he would have told Merle about her long ago, but she wasn't any other woman. Relationships between villagers and the aristocrats weren't unheard of but they were never anything serious, nor could they ever be. Any children born of such unions weren't acknowledged, the aristocrats married amongst each other and the villagers remained with other villagers. It wasn't that fact that kept him from saying anything to Merle though, Merle would never tell anyone else about her. It was because she was special and he wasn't ready to share that yet.
The smile faded from Merle's face. "Atticus what is going on?"
"Nothing I'd like to talk about right now."
"Wait!" Merle grabbed hold of his arm when he went to turn away. "Atticus this is me you're talking to. We've always told each other everything. You saved my life when we got drunk and I fell off of my horse and onto my sword."
Atticus laughed as he recalled that particular incident. Now, it wouldn't have been a mortal wound to Merle. At the time though he'd only been fourteen and he hadn't been able to heal himself as fast as he was bleeding out. Atticus had staunched the wound to the best of his ability with dirt and leaves before leaving to hunt down a human for his cousin to feed on. The woman hadn't survived as Merle had been beyond control and needed more blood than he normally required. Afterward, Atticus had been the one to dispose of the body in a nearby lake. No one else knew about the accident, and though Atticus regretted the loss of the woman's life, he would do it again if it meant saving Merle.
The most time they'd spent apart was the first month of his life, before Merle had been born. Both of them had been handed over to the care of their nursemaids and placed in a nursery the moment they'd been born. At four they'd been moved from the nursery and into a large room that they had shared because they refused to be separated.
When they turned ten, they were moved from their room and into the training compound with the rest of the aristocrat's children. There they had been taught how to fence, wield a sword, joust, the art of archery, the brutality of the staff, and hand-to-hand combat. Unlike humans, these skills would not be used in war. Though some vampires did go to war to partake in the spoils of blood and riches that war could sometimes offer them, the aristocratic children learned these skills to protect themselves against their own kind and to keep control of what was theirs.
There had been twelve children in the compound at the time, and as the youngest of the twelve, the two of them had taken repeated beatings over the first four years. Then, at fourteen, Atticus began to surpass the others in strength and endurance. The other boys had stopped picking on him and Merle when the tables had been turned on them. It was Atticus they were frightened of, but they all knew they would earn his wrath if they went after Merle.
"Are you in some sort of trouble?" Merle pressed.
Atticus released a snort of laughter. He didn't know how to answer that question. His life wasn't in jeopardy, he wasn't into any kind of gambling debt that his father might have to get him out of, but he was definitely in over his head.
"I'm not sure what I'm into," he admitted.
"Are we talking about new experiences with women here?" Merle asked with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. "And if so, please do share."
"No, it's not like that."
Merle's kidding demeanor vanished as he threw back his shoulders and set his jaw. "Are we to fight then?"
Atticus snorted and shook his head. "No."
Now Merle looked as confused as he had the day they'd discovered their old nursemaid and Atticus's father rolling around in the hay. They'd only been seven at the time but neither of them had walked out of that barn the same. "I'll do whatever I can to help you out."
"I know, and I thank you, but you can't help me out of this Merle. That's not going to be possible and I don't want out of it."
His cousin's blue eyes studied him closely. "What have you gotten yourself into?"
Atticus leaned against Drago's side and crossed his legs. "I have been meeting with one of the women we met in the woods that day, but not the blond."
"The black haired girl?"
"Genny," he confirmed.
"But… she's not your type." Merle's tone was full of disbelief as he tried to assimilate this information.
"True," Atticus admitted. He had always preferred a blond with a rounder figure, but then none of them had possessed Genny's smile, her laugh, or had made him feel the way that she did. They'd all been after his money, his bed, his power or all of the above. Genny asked him for nothing, she demanded nothing of him, she simply enjoyed being in his presence. He'd never encountered that from anyone before.
"Is this serious Atticus?"
He thought over that question for a minute. Over these past couple of weeks he'd gotten to know her better, he hated to be away from her, but he'd never stopped to think about what it was between them exactly. They hadn't even lain together yet, he didn't even know if they would, but he knew he didn't want this to end. "Yes."
Merle looked as if he'd just been stabbed in the stomach with a sword again as his mouth dropped open. "You mean to keep her as a mistress then?"
"I could never ask that of her, and I don't think she would agree to it."
"You can't marry her Atticus."
He bristled over the words. He didn't like being told what he could and could not do under normal circumstances; he despised his cousin telling him there was something that he couldn't do with Genny. "You're getting ahead of me on that Merle," he grated out from between his clenched teeth.
"Maybe I am, and I'm not looking to upset you, but your father will not approve of this."
"None of the aristocrats will approve of this."
"True."
"And I've never truly cared what any of them approved of before."
Some of the tension eased from Merle as he grinned at him. "Even more true. Well your secret is safe with me cousin."
"Thank you."
Grabbing hold of the saddle, he boosted himself onto Drago's back. Merle stepped forward and rested his hand on the horse's shoulder. "You may want to try and act at least a little normal again though; I'm not the only one that has noticed a change in you. The servants are talking and it's only a matter of time before that talk gets back to your father."
Atticus's jaw clenched, his gaze drifted to the manor half hidden in the fog creeping forth from the woods. He didn't know what his father would do if he were to learn about Genny and he wasn't willing to find out either. "I'll do what I can," he muttered. "I have to go now."
Merle nodded and stepped away. Atticus could feel his eyes following him as he galloped across the land toward the woods.
- CHAPTER 10 -
Genny watched from the shadows as Atticus rode his horse into the clearing. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his magnificent form as he sat tall in the saddle with his shoulders thrust back proudly
. He may never become king, but he most certainly looked like one and he would become the strongest of their kind one day. Even at his young age power radiated from him in a vibrant ray that lit him from the inside out.
His head turned in her direction; she felt it when his eyes latched upon her. The way his stare burned into her caused her toes to curl and for a second she had that same strange sensation of her heart beating in her chest. She couldn't move as he slipped from the saddle and landed upon the ground without a sound.
Genny slid away from the tree she had been standing by and walked toward him. Her body hummed with excitement as she stopped before him and tilted her head back to look into his striking eyes. She barely felt the brush of his fingers against her face before he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and bent to kiss her. Relief swept through her when his lips touched against hers. Everything that was wrong in her life faded away as every part of her became centered upon him.
He pulled her another step closer, her mouth opened to his when his tongue brushed over her lips. The corded muscles in his arms bunched when her hands curled into his forearms. She needed something to try and keep her grounded as his touch caused everything within her to soar higher than the treetops. With him, she had discovered a happiness she'd never thought she'd find in this often harsh and brutal world. His tongue stroked the excitement within her to higher levels, his arm around her waist pressed her more firmly against him.
It felt like a piece of her was taken away when he pulled away from her and rested his forehead against hers. His eyes, darkened by desire, were a deep forest green as they searched her face with reverence. They'd only been apart for ten hours but it had seemed like days and it was only getting harder and harder to be away from him. Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch as his thumb rubbed her cheek.
"Come," he said.
Taking hold of her hand, he led her over to his horse. He rested his hands on her hips, lifted her up and placed her on the back of the horse so that she was sitting sideways in the saddle. He gave her a mischievous grin as he pulled her bunched tunic down toward her ankles. His hand sliding over her exposed skin made her body quake when he briefly caressed her leg before covering her up. He placed his foot into the stirrup and swung into the saddle behind her.
She hadn't been on a horse often but when he pulled her into his arms and settled her in his lap, she decided it was something she would like to do a lot more often. Curling against him, her head rested on his chest as he gathered the reins and nudged the horse forward. The sun flickering through the leaves warmed her, or perhaps it was him that caused her body to heat so much that her clothes felt increasingly confining as they made their way through the forest. The sound of the birds chirruping amongst the trees caused a feeling of peace to steal through her.
It was so strangely tranquil, something that her life never was. Even if it couldn't last, for now she could pretend that it was only the two of them in the world and that nothing else would ever intrude upon them. It was an amazing fantasy, one that she decided to indulge in as they moved further into areas of the forest that she'd never explored before.
***
Atticus rested his chin on top of her head when she curled trustingly within his arms. Her sweeping lashes fell down to brush against her cheek as she rested her head on his chest. He couldn't help but smile when he spotted the ribbon he'd bought her tied in her hair. He forgot about his conversation with Merle and lost himself to the feel of her lithe body pressed against his. It didn't matter what his cousin and the others thought, all that mattered was her.
"It's beautiful out here," she murmured.
"It is," he agreed as he led Drago across the stream and through the thickening trees.
"Sometimes I think it would be great to go into the woods and get lost amongst the trees forever."
"Why would you think that?"
She shrugged but the rigidity of her body belied the dismissive gesture. "I don't know, I love nature and think it would be an adventure."
He stared down at her but she didn't lift her eyes to look at him. There was something so sad about her suddenly that he couldn't stop himself from reaching out and caressing her cheek in an attempt to soothe her. "Genny is there something the matter?"
She glanced up at him and gave him a tremulous smile. "No."
He stared at her but her gaze was already focused on something else. "Tell me something about yourself that I would never be able to guess," he said in an attempt to bring the happiness back to her eyes.
"You already know so much."
"Tell me something I don't know."
Her mouth twisted thoughtfully as she pondered his question. "I can read and write," she finally said. "My mother had a lover years ago who was a scribe. He took a liking to me, and I think he was looking for a way to keep me entertained, so he taught me."
This revelation astounded him; there were aristocrats that didn't have the skill required to do either. "There's not many who know how," he murmured.
"I enjoy it," she whispered. "I write every day."
"And what do you write about?"
She finally looked at him again. "I simply write about my day."
"Am I in these writings?" he teased.
She smiled at him as she rose up and pressed her lips briefly against his. "Maybe," she replied with a sassy smile.
"Maybe? Maybe?" Unable to resist her playful demeanor he tickled her just beneath her ribcage. She let out a little squeal and squirmed in his arms in an attempt to avoid his persistent fingers. He'd never tickled anyone before in his life, but he would tickle her every day for the rest of hers if it made her laugh with such joy. He couldn't help but smile as her tinkling laughter rang through the forest and she pleaded with him to stop.
She grabbed hold of his hands and flattened them against her ribs so that he couldn't make a move against her again. It would be so easy to free himself from her grasp but he remained still against her. Her laughter drifted away and her head tilted back to look at him. Her hair had loosened from her movements; straggling strands of it now fell free to frame her angular face. All merriment faded as desire lanced through him so swiftly that for a second it took everything he had not to pull her from the saddle and lay her down on the forest floor right here and now.
He knew she sensed his mood, he could see it in the smoky haze of passion clouding her eyes. "I think I'll have to read it to see what you've said about me," he said in a hoarse voice.
Another burst of laughter escaped her as she shook her head. "I don't think so. Tell me something about you now."
"What would you like to know?"
She impishly tapped her chin but a serious look came over her face when she met his eyes again. "Have you ever killed a human before?"
Her words were spoken in a conspiring tone even though they were alone in the woods. "Not in this lifetime," he told her with a wink. "Though I had a hand in a human life being lost in order to save Merle from death. I did not enjoy that incident though and never want to experience it again."
She rested her hand tenderly against his cheek. "I'm sorry that happened but it sounds like you did what had to be done."
He turned his lips into her palm and kissed her. "I did. And what of you Genny, have you ever killed a human?"
"No! Of course not!" she blurted.
He kissed the tip of her nose and focused on the woods ahead of them in order to try and distract himself from the temptation nestled within his arms. The faith she had in him rattled him even more than his growing feelings for her did. Her floral scent filled his nostrils; he savored in it as his eyes fell on the blue vein running through her slender neck. Without warning, his mouth filled with saliva and his fangs lengthened. He hadn't been rocked with the craving for blood so forcefully, and with such a loss of control, since he was a child. The overwhelming urge to taste her, to have her blood fill his mouth, to have it fill him hit him hard.
He shifted his hold on her as he tried
to shake his sudden thirst. It was an insane notion, no vampire ever wanted something like that to occur. Drawn closer by her enticing scent, he bowed his head further down. The out of control feeling consuming him was something that he'd thought he would hate, yet he relished in it as his hand stroked her waist.
"Genny," he whispered.
There was a dreamy expression on her face when she tilted her head back to look up at him. Her eyes widened, he didn't know what she saw when she looked at him but if he looked as out of control as he felt, then his hunger was evident in his fangs and reddened eyes. She came out of his arms and sat up straighter in the saddle.
"Atticus, what's wrong?"
He pulled the reins up, halting Drago so that he could attempt to regain control of himself. He wasn't sure that was going to be possible though as his aching fangs pressed against the inside of his mouth. His muscles began to shake; he'd never experienced anything like the sensations tearing through him right now. He didn't know what was going on but he had to get away from her before he did something that she might end up hating him for.
The thought of her turning against him made his stomach turn. Adjusting his hold on her, he moved her out of his lap and made sure she was securely settled before swinging out of the saddle. "Atticus?"
"I need a minute," he told her. He walked over to the closest tree and rested his forearm against it. His head bowed; the bark bit into his skin as he fought to get his fangs to retract. He'd never had so much trouble getting his body to obey his commands before. Her approach caused a twig to crack but though all he wanted was to turn around and take hold of her, he couldn't bring himself to move.
"What is wrong?"
He almost knocked away the hand she rested on his arm. All it did was arouse his appetite even further, but though he grabbed hold of her hand with the intention of removing it from him, he found his fingers wrapping around hers. Something primitive inside of him was completely unraveling; she was going to be his downfall and yet as he felt her skin against his, he realized she was also his savior.